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The Poetaster; or, His Arraignment, a play by Ben Jonson |
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Act 4 - Scene 5 |
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_ ACT IV - SCENE V SCENE V.-A Street before the Palace. [Enter TUCCA, CRISPINUS, and PYRGUS.]
Cris. O; they are rid home in the coach, as fast as the wheels can run. Tuc. God Jupiter is banished, I hear, and his cockatrice Juno lock'd up. 'Heart, an all the poetry in Parnassus get me to be a player again, I'll sell 'em my share for a sesterce. But this is Humours, Horace, that goat-footed envious slave; he's turn'd fawn now; an informer, the rogue! 'tis he has betray'd us all. Did you not see him with the emperor crouching? Cris. Yes. Tuc. Well, follow me. Thou shalt libel, and I'll cudgel the rascal. Boy, provide me a truncheon. Revenge shall gratulate him, tam Marti, quam Mercurio. Pyr. Ay, but master, take heed how you give this out; Horace is a man of the sword. Cris. 'Tis true, in troth; they say he's valiant. [Horace passes over the stage.] Tuc. Valiant? so is mine a--. Gods and fiends! I'll blow him into air when I meet him next: he dares not fight with a puck-fist. Pyr. Master, he comes! Tuc. Where? Jupiter save thee, my good poet, my noble prophet, my little fat Horace.--I scorn to beat the rogue in the court; and I saluted him thus fair, because he should suspect nothing, the rascal. Come, we'll go see how far forward our journeyman is toward the untrussing of him. Cris. Do you hear, captain? I'll write nothing in it but innocence, because I may swear I am innocent. [Exeunt.] _ |
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